Chapter 36 #2
“You mean the disappearances.” The blonde human shared a look of uncertainty with her company before she spoke, and when she did, her voice could barely be heard over the crackling of the bonfire. “The immortals are being hunted.”
“Yes.” Everinne nodded. “But you said something about the daughter of High Priestess Rozalie?”
Atlas’s grip on her arm tightened.
“She’s been taken. Or stolen.” The human’s face mirrored regret, confirming Everinne’s fear. “But so have many others.”
Everinne didn’t care about any of the others.
She only cared about her best friend. About Zoryana.
Zory.
Not Zory.
“No, no,” Everinne mumbled, turning away from the group of mortals so quickly the world tilted, and the colors of the night blurred.
She stumbled forward, gasping as smoke filled her lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
Her eyes burned and she swiped hastily at the tears streaming down her face.
Everinne coughed, tried to wrench herself free from Atlas’s hold, but he refused to release her.
She could hear him calling her name while she continued to lurch away from the bonfire, and though he held tightly to her wrist, he didn’t try to stop her.
He just kept pace as she staggered blindly into the night while the snow whipped around them, while the wind froze the tears on her cheeks.
Her magic stretched, awakening the monstrosity inside of her.
The power of death demanded payment and retribution.
It sought vengeance as it clawed its way to the surface, ripping into her sense of self, snapping its angry jaws and tearing at her confidence and control like a raging beast.
Her chest heaved, lungs seizing with every ragged breath.
Zoryana was gone.
The cacophonous sound of pain, of death echoed through her mind. Loud, yet painfully silent.
Wisps of violet and ribbons of black poured from the tips of her fingers and Everinne clenched her hands into fists, until her nails bit into the chapped skin of her palms, until she drew pinpricks of her own blood.
She clutched them to her chest as the violent power snaked around her heart, squeezing it in a vise-like grip, slashing it with blades of hot iron.
It clouded her mind and battled her judgment, feeding off the swell of her storming emotions like a tempest of wrath.
Suddenly, Atlas was there.
He captured her face with both hands, warmth bleeding into her, his voice sharp and demanding when he said, “Look at me.”
Everinne’s eyes snapped to him.
Atlas’s magic flowed into her, it shimmered down the bond like a gleaming sword of strength, defending her.
“You are in control.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. His magic surged and the bond expanded, amplifying as he guided her out of the darkness. “Feel your power, Everinne. Own it. Rule it.”
She swallowed hard, searching every gaping, cavernous part of herself.
If she could summon it in the dungeon, then she could call it back, she could prohibit it from overtaking her once more.
Shard by splintered shard, she collected every broken piece of herself, gradually piecing the shattered fragments back together until it resembled the reflection of her soul.
Gazing into Atlas’s eyes, she found clarity, but more than that, she found peace.
With each breath, the agonizing pain subsided, the need to hurt, to destroy, ebbed.
She gathered all the slivers of darkness, slowly plucking them from her heart.
The veins of violet and black receded, her emotions calmed, and all the while there was an indistinct cadence, a sensual calling of familiarity that never left her. As though it had always been there.
As though he’d always been there.
“We’ll get her back,” Atlas murmured, his nose gently grazing hers.
His words struck her with a pang of despair. “You knew?”
Atlas leaned back, grasping both of her hands. The snow continued to fall, heavier now, so clumps of it gathered on his golden waves. “I knew, but I only just found out.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?”
“Of course I was going to tell you,” he pleaded, and she felt the distinctive tug of the bond, the aching strain of his heart for her.
“But you’d just been drugged, Ever. I was trying to protect you, or at least give you time to recover from one traumatic event before informing you that your best friend had vanished. ”
Everinne knew he didn’t mean to hurt her, she could feel it in the way the weight of his gaze settled upon her—it was brimming with an emotion she didn’t want to recognize, that singular feeling that would make all of this so much more than a fated bond.
“I know.” Her words were soft when she spoke. “I know you were trying to keep me safe. But I have to find Zoryana.”
She turned to leave and Atlas’s arm shot out, snagging her by the waist. “Where are you going?”
“There’s only one place I can go if I want answers.” Everinne’s gaze drifted past the mighty stone walls that wrapped around Starysa, toward the forest blanketed in a dense layer of snow. “The wicked wood.”